Producing – Week Three

Time. A strange phenomenon. Sometimes it can seem like such a welcome thing and then the next moment like a hateful arch enemy. Sometimes it stretches to the horizon like a highway in the desert and then next moment is consumed like coal shovelled into the furnace of an ever accelerating steam train. Sometimes it is treasured like a precious stone and then next moment carelessly discarded like worthless waste. And sometimes we think we own it, that it is ours, and then next moment we feel that someone else has ownership and our time is not our own.

This week has been a bit like that. In my over-committed busy life, ‘time’ has been a distant rainbow that I have painfully pursued longing to grasp even just a small portion to claim as my own, but in vain. I am forced to bow to my ‘to do lists’, to submit to my predetermined schedule, to be enslaved by the fact that my time is not my own... But it is a lie! No human being has ownership of my time, it belongs to me, and the privelege of using every minute is mine, and so must the responsibility be. I choose how to spend my allowance of this priceless commerce and, as I explored last week, it is I who must face the consequences of those decisions. We are all given the same allowance and so I have no grounds to either boast or complain. There are twenty four hours in the day, and it is the same for everyone.

I try and cheat. I try to squeeze more and more time out of the day until tiredness and an unsymphatic clock face displaying two o’clock in the morning convince me of my foolishness. This method can work on occasion but as soon as it becomes the routine it begins to be counter-productive. Sleep is necessary. I have a responsibility to allocate a substantial chunk of my budget of time to sleeping, and if I don’t... again I must face the consequences. So often I think I have lost control, that my life is careening down a path I have no choice about, that my time is not my own. This is an illusion. Time is a gift, free-will is a gift, life is a gift. Gifts are free, often undeserved, and they have true value when the giver gives with a certain intention, from a knowledge of the receiver’s wants and needs. I, the receiver, want more time to do all the things I want to do but I need to do less things. What do I get? The same as anyone else; twenty four hours per day. So, eventually, I’ll learn.

What has all this got to do with producing? This week there seemed to be a slight lull in the production department of Broken Bubbles, a sort of simmering as we tried to control the heat without losing all impetus. In the breathing space this afforded I was able to examine how I use my time and how I view my time. As a Producer it is my job to see Broken Bubbles through to successful completion. Although not an easy task I have been given all the raw materials I need. I have life and creativity, I have the ability to make choices, and – no matter how helpless and out-of-control I may feel on occasion – I have what mankind has always had; I have time.

Producing – Week Two

Decisions, decisions, decisions… Oh, the pain and privilege of the Producer under pressure. It is our lot as human beings – in fact it defines us – to be submerged in a sea of choices every minute of our lives. Most of the time the decisions are quickly and easily made. Sometimes, they’re not. All too often it falls to the Producer to simply be the one that ‘decides’, whatever the significance or size of the choice, and then communicate that decision to all those it effects, and to be well-prepared for the consequences of that decision further down the line. So a Producer needs to be good at making decisions. I’m not sure if I’m good at making decisions or not… I am sometimes, but it depends... Thus speaks my indecisive self. I can’t even decide if I’m decisive or not!

This week we had a few big decisions to make as part of the pre-production for Broken Bubbles. Who to cast in each part? I feel we’ve made good decisions here, since Murdo has mostly got the people he had in mind when actually writing the parts! I had to make a decision about where to get a Green Screen, having searched out a pretty good deal but then discovering a possibly even better one at the last minute. Again, I think I’ve gone for the right choice. A big one this week, which caused a bit of ‘Executive concern’ (!), was whether to do a model for the exterior of the main character’s workshop/home. I’ve never done proper model-work before, there is plenty potential for it to turn out as a complete waste of time and effort, and needless to say I was somewhat reluctant to go for it. Yet, I really did feel the story required an exterior shot and, after much discussion with Murdo and John (our Director of Photography), we decided that the model would be the best way to go.

Decisions… It’s the same in life. Sometimes it feels rather like I reach a crossroads and neither path looks ideal, but I can’t stop. Or worse, both paths look equally appealing. It’s in these circumstances that I just wish a bright flashing neon sign would appear from heaven and just point me in the right direction but God, though I’m sure perfectly capable of such a ‘prompting’, prefers to employ other methods! The good thing about choices is that once they’re made that’s it. They’re done, finished, and even if the consequences rise up to haunt you, at least the agony of the initial choice is gone for good.

Also this week we had some training on the RED workflow for post-production and specifically AVID, the tasks of the DIT (or in our case the Data Loader) and how media is managed in this new digital age. It’s so exciting, and a tad frustrating, that these processes are still changing even as we learn them but it is exhilarating to think that we are on the front-line as the whole filmmaking industry undergoes a dramatic wave of change. Thankfully I’d been on set for one of the Grad films as a DIT Trainee so I have a bit more of a working knowledge of the processes, but there is still so much to learn…

I’ve decided something! That I don’t have to be the most decisive person in the world. I’m still learning, and hopefully improving… and I’m not going to stop.

Producing – Week One

So, after the long and painful neglect of my beloved Performance Journal, I return once again with profound reflections so decoratively communicated I expect there won’t be a single soul, myself included, who has the slightest clue what on earth I’m on about! Hopefully not. I’ll try to keep it frank.

So I’m Producer on one of our three end-of-year films, namely Broken Bubbles written and directed by Murdo Macleod. Producing, like this Journal, is something I’ve been mentally avoiding, not because I don’t want to do it but rather because I have crowded my mind, my time, my life, with so many other things it has been impossible to do any of them justice, and extremely hard to enjoy any of them also. Gaelic, driving, singing, projects, writing, moving… to name a few, and then I remember that somewhere under that lot there’s a fantastic film and television course I’m supposed to be studying on. Yes, I have severely over-committed myself this term. I’ve been foolish, I’ve made a mistake, I’ll learn from it… I hope. The fact remains: I love being busy, but too much of anything is harmful.

Pre-production on Broken Bubbles is going well. Thankfully we have quite a bit longer to prepare than the other two which takes the pressure off somewhat. I’m grafting away quite cheerfully and learning a lot as I go. It seems to me that producing, more than directing or any of the more ‘creative’ roles, is learnt on the job. It’s about just going for it, encountering problems, solving them, learning from them, and pushing on. The storyteller within me finds this very appealing as this is of course the foundation of any character-led story. For me the two most important roles of the Producer are to keep a constant flow of clear communication to everyone involved in the production and to be always looking ahead and being well prepared; or as Jerry Bruckheimer, one of the world’s most successful film producers, said: “Expect the worst, hope for the best!”

Cutting a Comedic Kill

Gosford Park is a comedy murder mystery directed by Robert Altman which entertainingly contrasts the lives of the rich and bored ‘upstairs’ guests with the interesting ‘downstairs’ servants during a shooting party at an English country manor in 1932. The film was edited by Tim Squyres and was nominated for ‘AFI Editor of the Year’ and for ‘Best Edited Feature Film – Comedy or Musical’ in 2002.1 In the very centre of this multiple storylined period drama is the crucial murder scene. This sequence has been edited in both a functional and interesting way:

As Sidney Lumet, a highly acclaimed and respected film director, says:

“While it’s absurd to believe that pictures are “made” in the cutting room, they sure as hell can be ruined there.”2

In my opinion this scene was definitely not ruined in the cutting room and by deconstructing it I will attempt to explore just how effectively and skilfully edited it actually is.

Films are unavoidably subjective because they are primarily concerned with emotion. The role of the filmmaker is to draw in the audience so that they feel the film, as opposed to just watch it. Walter Murch, a master of the craft of editing, puts it like this:

“How do you want the audience to feel? If they are feeling what you want them to feel all the way through the film, you’ve done about as much as you can ever do… If you have to give up something, don’t ever give up emotion before story.”3

As I say, films are subjective but I think when watching this sequence we feel a strange and spicy mixture of light humour and sinister seriousness. As the song begins we have that first moment of hilarity:

which is instantly shot down to an awkward fascination as we see the mysterious feet prowling in the darkness.

As the sequence progresses we realise the significance of what we are seeing and when we get exactly halfway through we see the knife:

and by then the whole mood and meaning has flipped and the tension swaps from suspense, to anticipation of the stab.

Yet even as we witness the actual murder we can’t help but view it with an odd amusement as if it’s really not that serious.

Already we can see how cleverly this sequence has been constructed in that it is a perfect snapshot of the genre of the whole piece. Gosford Park is a comedy murder mystery, a rather oxymoronic genre, and the emotion we feel during this sequence exactly matches that idea. We feel like laughing, yet our emotions are conflicted as we are witnessing something sinister. A magnificently messy mix!

This blend of emotions is purposefully achieved by careful cutting. Walter Murch says:

“Frequently, it takes more work and discernment to decide where not to cut…”4

and it is interesting to note that the tension build is not due to increasing frantic or irregular cutting, as the pace remains sedate, or even a crescendo in the sound or music, as this also stays quiet and steady. As proved by Kuleshov two different images cut together creates meaning (A + B = C). This tension is in fact achieved through the intercutting of two contrasting scenarios.

The bulk of our emotion is invested in the progress of the mysterious feet and this is where the feeling of sinister suspense comes from. Here is an example of how it could have been cut:

Clearly this produces a completely different emotion and instantly makes it a completely different film. So by splicing in the silly song, the bored guests and the listening servants a totally new meaning is created and we get our wonderful mix of emotions.

Also worth noting are the actual shots we cut away to in the first half of the sequence. As can be seen from the above clip the shots in the murderer’s narrative show quite a linear journey. The song shots subtly help this narrative along by becoming more and more distant from the source of the music as we become more and more interested in the murderer’s progress.

I mentioned earlier that at the halfway point, when we see the knife, we know what is about to happen. The Master, Murch, says the following about the job of an editor:

“Your job is partly to anticipate, partly to control the thought processes of the audience. To give them what they want and/or what they need just before they have to “ask” for it – to be surprising yet self-evident at the same time. If you are too far behind or ahead of them, you create problems, but if you are right with them, leading them ever so slightly, the flow of events feels natural and exciting at the same time.”5

The mid-point, the reveal of the knife, could potentially be a moment when the audience gets a little ahead of the editor. There is that great shot of the approaching assassin, knife held ready:

suddenly followed by the funniest and most contrasting shot we have seen yet:

This juxtaposition causes a ‘jump’ in emotion which throws us off balance ever so slightly but enough to remind us what type of film we are watching and so that as we finally see the murder the mood is lightened and we feel as if it’s really not that serious.

Of course, what we see is only half of a filmmakers concern; what we hear is equally important. The soundtrack for this sequence is particularly interesting. Production Designer Stephen Altman (Robert Altman’s son) comments:

“It’s not really murder music… Counterprogramming.”6

To counteract the serious and sinister moment of the murder the music needs to be humorous and harmless to lift the moment, and consequently the film, into the comedy genre. Also this song has the added bonus of providing a tempo for the scene. For Sidney Lumet:

“…there are two main elements to editing: juxtapositioning images and creating tempo.”7

This song is a clever choice as it helps with both. The crucial moments are when the tempo of the music changes.

“…it’s the change in tempo that we feel, not the tempo itself.”8

Here’s one major change, it slows to a pause… then regains normal tempo:

And here’s another, a change to a sudden faster tempo:

It is certainly not a coincidence that two ‘tempo-change’ moments are the two moments we have been most interested in; the mid-point when we see the knife and the end when we see the stab. The first change causes us to pause and therefore take more careful note of the information we are seeing, and the faster tempo cued by the STAB heightens the excitement and messes the mood of this humorously horrific climax.

Altman would not deny that this scene is a vaguely “Alfred Hitchcock-esque” moment9 and it is interesting to compare Altman’s murder sequence with the famous murder scene from Hitchcock’s Psycho10:

There are obvious similarities: we never see the murderer’s face, a knife is used, the audience is aware of the murderer's approach whilst the victim is unsuspecting; and also major differences: the music, the rhythm, the stabbing; but this highlights the importance of knowing the original before attempting the spoof. Or in Altman’s words, when being questioned about certain technicalities:

“Oh yes, all of those rules we broke. That’s what rules are there for.”11

The depth and detail of the editing in this one short sequence is just extraordinary and this exploration has greatly increased my appreciation of the scene, the film and the filmmakers. I agree with Robert Altman:

“… when you see it [Gosford Park] the second time, which is the most effective way to see it… and you know all the answers, you know all the ‘whodunits’… the film is really better, because you’re able to deal in the detail of it and see nuances that otherwise escape you.”12

This opportunity to explore the “nuances” of the editing of this sequence has been extremely beneficial and has made me more aware of the centrality of emotion, the significance of style and the power of great editing.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Books
Murch, W., 2001. In the Blink of an Eye. 2nd ed. Los Angeles: Silman-James Press.
Lumet, S., 1996. Making Movies. New York: Vintage Books.

DVDs
Gosford Park. 2001. Dir. Robert Altman. [DVD]. UK: Entertainment in Video
Psycho. 1960. Dir. Alfred Hitchcock. [DVD]. UK: Universal Pictures Ltd.

Websites
Wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/ [Accessed 15th February 2010]
IMDb: http://www.imdb.com/ [Accessed 30th January 2010]

* * *

1The Internet Movie Database. 2010. Tim Squyres. [online]. Available from: http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0820163/ [Accessed 30th January 2010]
2Lumet, S., 1996. Making Movies. New York: Vintage Books.
3Murch, W., 2001. In the Blink of an Eye. 2nd ed. Los Angeles: Silman-James Press.
4Murch, W., 2001. In the Blink of an Eye. 2nd ed. Los Angeles: Silman-James Press.
5Murch, W., 2001. In the Blink of an Eye. 2nd ed. Los Angeles: Silman-James Press.
6Gosford Park. 2001. Dir. Robert Altman. [DVD Commentary]. UK: Entertainment in Video
7Lumet, S., 1996. Making Movies. New York: Vintage Books.
8Lumet, S., 1996. Making Movies. New York: Vintage Books.
9Gosford Park. 2001. Dir. Robert Altman. [DVD Commentary]. UK: Entertainment in Video
10Psycho. 1960. Dir. Alfred Hitchcock. [DVD]. UK: Universal Pictures Ltd.
11Gosford Park. 2001. Dir. Robert Altman. [DVD Commentary]. UK: Entertainment in Video
12Gosford Park. 2001. Dir. Robert Altman. [DVD Commentary]. UK: Entertainment in Video

Det sjunde inseglet (The Seventh Seal)

Ingmar Bergman’s dark fantasy drama follows the journey of a returning crusader knight as he questions God, struggles with his faith and plays a game of chess with Death... I found myself really quite immersed in this world. Although a Swedish film there are undeniable similarities, in terms of visual style and tone, to German expressionism (a form that I find fascinating). There is something about its dark and detailed quality which uncomfortably and effortlessly transports the viewer to another world, somewhere between life and death. For someone who feared death like Bergman this must have been a world his imagination was quite familiar with. This film is bold; he is not a depressive hiding behind a comic’s mask but a fearful man who is honestly and bravely portraying his fear on screen. The Seventh Seal is a priceless glimpse into the mind of its director and there is much fear and doubt to be found there. Yet there were frequent light-hearted moments of bright life. A complex and intriguing journey.

Location Scout

How awesome it is to be on an innovative and practical filmmaking course and to be able to turn up for class of a Wednesday afternoon and use it to scout potential shooting locations in Glasgow. I was struck by the reminder of just how fortunate I am whilst visiting Glasgow University Library and seeing the endless streams of proper students – numbers on a database – go about their routine of lectures, research and essay writing... I feel very fortunate to have narrowly escaped that fate. How different my life would have been if I had not gone to the Academy. It is unfair to categorise and generalise students and I do not mean to undermine or devalue them in any way. All I can say is that I could never be a student, and thankfully never will be. That moment, when I was fifteen, I decided what I wanted to do with my life, and since then I have been a filmmaker... in training. A location scout through the streets of Glasgow was another great step in this training. It’s amazing what art and inspiration can be found in the heart of this city and how exciting it is to think that this beauty can be used to create unique worlds through the magic of cinema.

Wanted

Starring the Academy’s very own James McAvoy this graphic action flick tells the story of a man who discovers he is the son of a dangerous assassin so leaves his mundane office life behind to be trained as a killer himself. I think this is a very interesting idea dealing with sensitive but universal topics. The only danger is that Hollywood can often sugar-coat or glorify subjects and if that subject is murder it could end up communicating a very bad message. I think Wanted only just gets away with it because of the plot twist. I am hoping to view Taken since as far as I can discern this is playing with the exact same fire.

Some of the action and special effects were quite interesting but I was a little disappointed in the writing. It felt sadly contrived and one-dimensional especially in the opening which lazily was nothing more than a voice over listing ‘protagonist problems to be fixed’. Michael Brandt, Derek Haas and Chris Morgan (the writers) obviously didn’t have much imagination between them when it came to dialogue. I felt sorry for poor James whose character’s vocabulary was so limited we could hardly make out his lines through all the fffs. I’m not trying to be condescending but this film was an example of business burying the art. Its purpose was to sell popcorn. Dodgy to think that the targeted popcorn-buying audience was probably fifteen year-old boys, yet over here the film was an 18. Did they go too far with the blood? How does this kind of content affect our minds? Hey, it makes money; the studio couldn’t care less about our minds…